22 March 2009

Everywhere she turned she was confronted by her mirror image. Going to the world famous "Hall of Mirrors" at the amusement park had been Tony's idea. Dear, darling Tony...once her only true love and salvation...now just another notch on the serial killer belt! She questioned the reality of the situation. "This is just my imagination playing tricks on me...I'll wake up soon...I have to!". Somewhere in the distance the smell of roasting marshmallows could be perceived, so strong she could almost taste them. "I'm close to the exit," she thought to herself with great relief. Suddenly a hand touched her bare shoulder and she screamed. "Ms. Mackenzie are you okay?" asked the rather shocked young man. "I'm so sorry I startled you, I just wanted your autograph. I just got your book on cartography, 'Mapping Our World' and had wanted you to sign my copy". Red-faced and embarrassed as hell, Michelle hastily scribbled her name before bolting to the back of the partition that seperated the auditorium from the ante room. Mortified she ran for the exit and jumped into her green powered car and burned rubber all the way to the highway. Suddenly she burst out laughing self-consciously "That'll teach me to watch horror movies alone again!"

Big Mac, the legendary leader of the Black Panther movement, strolled down to the poets corner for a little coversation and his usual morning latte only to meet the ghost of T. S. Elliot yapping on his cell phone with Marilyn Monroe.

Mega Challenge:

Driving down the highway on the way to a Salvation Minstries retreat behind the wheel of her so-called green power car, Michelle Mackenzie (aka 'Big Mac' or just plain Mac to her friends), wondered, while starting at her mirror image in the rear view mirror, for the umpteenth time why she'd accepted Michael's invitation to the revival, but it provided an opportunity for them to spend some time together.The breeze from the rolled down windows carried with it the smell of roasting marshmallows and the sound of childrens' laughter, making her smile as she remembered happier, carefree days.To wile away the time on the seemingly endless drive Mac gave her imagination free reign to conjure up ideas for her new novel about a female serial killer, that would hopefully help her career cross over the invisible partition seperating her from joining the legendary 'Best-sellers' honour roll. The novel's main protagonist was an out of work detective with a degree in cartography...of all things...trying to hunt down a killer called the Panther. Her editor thought it was a lousy idea but Mac was determined to stick to the plot.

Just outside Abuja her cell phone rang. It was Michael asking her to meet him at a cafe called the Poets Corner in Zone 10, and from there they'd head on to the revival. 20 minutes later she arrived at the cafe, took a seat and ordered a latte. 20 minutes more passed by which time Mac had gotten to the hundredth item on her 'foul things to say to Michael for always keeping me waiting' list, she felt a tap on her shoulder and turned ready for the 'mother of all wars'. There stood two young girls holding a copy of her last novel, sheepishly asking for her autograph.